


it's more fun to have secrets

by qindery



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV, WeishenV
Genre: M/M, rainbowv, weishenfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qindery/pseuds/qindery
Summary: rainbow v did more than just help friendships blossom.





	it's more fun to have secrets

“i want to dance with you.”

“really? i’ll think about it.”

“wha- what’s there to think about?!”

“i’m kinda busy lately… you really want to dance with me?”

“yes. i want to dance with you.”

“... okay, let’s dance.”

*

choosing the music was the easy part. sitting for what felt like hours on the dance practise room floor, listening to song after song, didn’t feel like work to ten. it just felt like what they usually did in the dorm - sit and listen to music together and chat. it was relaxing, despite the camera pointed at them. sicheng had said he wanted their dance to have a sad sort of feeling, so in the end they found a song, one that, for a long time, had spoken to ten in a way he’d not like to admit. lovely certainly described the song in a perfectly ironic sense. it was exactly what they’d been looking for - it was  _ sad _ . 

over the years ten had choreographed, or partly choreographed a lot of things. it started with smaller inputs, the overall dance mainly coming from other people’s minds, to where he was now, taking the reins for sicheng, who wasn’t as experienced in the choreography side of things as ten was. even so, it was a lot easier than previous choreographies, and it didn’t take long for ten to realise why. it was the way they played off one another, flowing together so easily, as if their minds were combined. ten moved, and sicheng followed so smoothly, with his own flare, his own style. “i love the way you dance.” he told sicheng one evening, as they were packing up to head back to the dorm. sicheng seemed taken aback, and took a moment to respond, a soft, but sincere ‘thank you’ slipping past his lips, accompanied by a bashful smile. 

it made ten wonder how often (or how little) sicheng had been receiving praise for his dancing before. 

the first few days of practising were a bit of a struggle, despite the ease at which they came up with certain movements - more so than ten felt they had to be, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. it wasn’t until he sat down over lunch, thinking hard as he stared into his coffee cup at the dark liquid, that he realised they didn’t exactly have a fully fleshed out story for their dance yet. it wasn't something ten usually felt necessary for choreography, especially not the hip-hop style he was so used to, but after watching so many modern dance videos he’d realised they all seemed to have very solid, clear stories being told. 

that’s what they were missing. their story. 

“we need to figure out the point of this dance.” ten said with a sigh, back leant against the wall as he sat beside sicheng. “we don’t have any point yet.” ten had been thinking, and all he really knew was that it should be a sad story they’re telling, to go with the sad song. “well, the dance is made up of soft movements, so it should have a more powerful point.” sicheng responded easily, as if it was such a simple idea - and in a way it was, but perhaps ten’s brain was so filled with  _ just _ dance moves that he couldn’t quite see past them to the deeper ideas, not like sicheng could. ten nodded slowly, tongue tracing over his lower lip as he thought. 

“yeah, we need… a story. we don’t have any yet.”

“you mean we need to dance like we’re telling a story?”

“exactly.”

*

in the end, it was sicheng who sparked the idea of them being the same person, one being the good side, and the other being the bad side; locked into a fight. ten thought it was beautiful, how the story of a fight, which is usually so aggressive, fast, and ugly, was being presented as something soft, slow, and  _ lovely _ . it turned something heart-wrenchingly unpleasant into art, which, in the end, ten realised, was what he, as a dancer, had always hoped to be able to do. it seemed that all he’d needed to unlock that ‘level-up’ was  _ sicheng _ . 

sicheng, ten realises, moves like water coursing down a stream, or smoke, curving around everything in its path. ten likes to watch him warm down at the end of each day - he sits with his back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes following sicheng as he dances like nobody's watching. something in his chest constricts. sicheng's eyes are unfocused, like he's not really there in the practise room with ten, he's somewhere else, dreaming of a different land. hi wonders where it is sicheng goes to when he dances, when he moves like smooth, melted chocolate.

as time goes on, and their dance comes together, ten grows annoyed at himself. there are parts of the dance where sicheng has to touch him, has to curl his body round his, or ten has to grip sicheng, has to come so close to him that he can feel his body heat radiating through his clothes. these bits are the problem, for ten. every time he ends up so close he can feel sicheng's breath on his skin his heart begins to hammer against his chest, ready to split his ribs right open and fall out onto the floor at his feet. he doesn't know why, can't pinpoint the reason why his hands get clammy when sicheng watches him stretch his muscles out every morning, or why he simply can't take his eyes off sicheng when he dances alone at the end of each day.

_ maybe he's allergic to him, ten thinks. _

eventually, they reach the end of their dance. but, it doesn't feel quite right yet. there's something missing, and it's niggling at the back of ten's mind, like an itch he just can't scratch.

"something's missing." he voices his concern to sicheng as they near their deadline.

"yeah, but what?" there's something in sicheng's eyes that resembles embarrassment, or guilt, his brows ever so slightly furrowed in the centre.

"it just... needs  _ something _ . something for the very end, but i can't figure out what!" the frustration boils over and ten tugs on his hair, drawing his knees to his chest to drop his forehead to them. something about their dance feels important, but heavy - there's a tension that's begun to fall around it, but ten can't say he dislikes it.

"i think you need a break."

"wha- we don't have time for a-"

"shhh. you need one. just put your shoes on and follow me."

*

steam curls round ten’s face, and for a moment, he tries to pretend he’s in a spa, about to have the knots in his muscles massaged out. the ramen in the plastic bowl under his chin doesn’t smell anywhere near like the oils they rub into your skin, but he tries his hardest to pretend. sicheng's elbow knocks his slightly, but he doesn't bother moving to make more room.

"so, you wanted to bring me to get convenience store ramen..?" he's not saying he expected something fancy, just maybe not  _ this _ .

"what? you're too good for convenience store ramen?" sicheng says, a smirk on his lips.

"yeah, obviously. can't you tell?" he jokes back, jerking his head to flip the hair hanging over his forehead to the side. sicheng laughs, and ten breaks into a smile. his stomach twists and sets itself on fire for a moment, as his eyes stay glued to the man beside him. sicheng's always had a pretty laugh, ten knew that, but it's gotten a lot more infectious recently, and it's hard to stay negative when he can light up a room with a mere chuckle.

"so, i think i have an idea for the dance." sicheng starts once the laughter's died down. bringing some noodles to his lips and blowing on them ten replies, "oh yeah?"

"you said something's missing, and i agree, it feels incomplete. but... i think we need to properly come together at the end. let me show you what i have in mind when we get back." he's hunched over his instant ramen bowl, as if talking to his noodles as he speaks to ten. ten, however, finds it hard to draw his eyes away from him for longer than a few minutes at a time. it seems unfair, he thinks, that he should be so distracted by sicheng for no reason, while sicheng seems to be able to completely ignore ten's presence in a room with him at times.

he can't say he really minds his eyes being drawn to sicheng like magnets, though. he's not an unpleasant view by any means.

*

the walk back to the practise room is a calm, quiet one. ten walks in silence, simply enjoying sicheng’s presence. he finds that he doesn’t feel at all awkward spending a lot of time with sicheng in silence, not speaking to each other - it just feels comfortable. it’s as if they’re able to communicate without words, able to understand what the other is thinking or feeling to some extent. even when ten feels like he understands sicheng, though, he realises there’s still a lot he doesn’t know about him. maybe it’s the mysteriousness of him being a scorpio, ten thinks.

the sky’s dark overhead, and as ten looks up, he’s reminded of how much  _ space _ there is out there. so much room to think, to create, to  _ imagine _ . it’s helps to clear his head. maybe, he thinks, he needs to find somewhere to sit and look up at the sky some night, just so he can open his brain and get rid of the fog that lingers in the corners. 

the lights are dim in the practise room as they head back inside. it feels like a second home to ten, and he’s instantly relaxed, and ready to dance. he’s not sure where his body will lead him, or what sicheng’s idea he wanted to show ten was, but he kicks off his shoes and socks and makes his way to the centre of the dimly lit room, facing the mirror and watching sicheng in it. he watches as the younger boy shrugs off his jacket and removes his shoes and socks, taking a moment to restretch himself. 

sicheng looks like he’s dancing even when he’s doing something as mundane as taking his shoes off, or warming up. his body’s so well proportioned, so fit, toned and tall - he’s eye-catching in a way ten supposes he’s jealous of. but there’s something else; a sort of appreciation that swells in him, growing larger by the day. he’s like a work of art that ten’s become so fond of he visits the gallery where it hangs every day just to see it. 

ten would go out of his way to visit sicheng every day if he had to, too. 

he sits for a moment, admiring sicheng, watching him move like a swan extending its neck, baring its beautiful chest to the people who simply can’t look away. ten’s captivated, entranced by sicheng’s ethereal, otherworldly graceful beauty. it’s hard to believe he’s human. he wonders how he’d gone so long not seeing just how painfully beautiful sicheng was.

eventually, sicheng stops warming up, resting in a squat on the floor in the centre of the room. 

“let me show you what i had in mind now?” he says, so quiet that ten almost doesn’t hear him. 

ten answers by standing and moving closer. they’d gotten to what they thought should be the end of their dance, but it was still missing something. so, sicheng tells ten to dance to where they’d gotten to, but then turn to him at the end, instead of remaining with his back to him. ten presses play on the stereo and they begin to dance, moving through the familiar steps and motions, trying to capture that chemistry, that feeling of togetherness for the dance. 

then, they reach the ending and ten turns as sicheng told him to, watching at sicheng walks closer. there’s something thick and heavy in his eyes, but a sparkle, even as his eyebrow tug together in the most fleeting frown. ten’s breath catches at the sight of sicheng’s intense stare, locked on him. he feels like a deer in the headlights - like sicheng is about to break him into a million pieces. 

_ but that’s just what he does. _

his hand raises to the back of ten’s neck and he draws him closer, their bodies mere inches apart. ten can feel sicheng’s warm breath on his skin as sicheng’s gaze meets his, making goosebumps raise all over his body. there’s electricity in the air, and ten feels like time has stopped, like everyone else in the universe is frozen in place as sicheng seems to search ten’s eyes for something, the slight furrow still present on his brow. ten wants to smooth it away with his thumb, wants to move even closer to see just how close he can get-

_ and then he feels soft lips against his and he feels like he’s drowning.  _

sicheng’s kissing him.

it takes his brain a moment to catch up with what’s happening, but when it does his instant reaction is to raise a hand to sicheng’s neck to hold him in place as he kisses back eagerly. there’s something instantly so intoxicating about kissing sicheng that ten feels like if he were to stop, he’d immediately crumble into a million tiny pieces. kissing sicheng feels as necessary to his survival as breathing, but with the added euphoria of the thought that  _ he’s kissing sicheng _ . 

but then, it’s over, and their foreheads are pressed together, eyes shut and hot breath hitting each other’s skin. ten’s eyes open first, and he finds himself gazing at sicheng in confused awe. he’s not sure sure where the kiss came from, or why sicheng kissed him, but his heart starts to ache as he realises he wants another kiss. no,  _ needs _ , another one. 

“what… was that for?” ten asks, voice soft, and harbouring just a tiny bit of shakiness. 

“what was it for?” there’s slight confusion in sicheng’s voice as his eyes flutter open, but it’s light, as if he’s pondering the question of why humans exist, or where consciousness comes from. “i just wanted to kiss you, i suppose.” 

ten finds himself smiling. it’s been a long time since anyone ‘just wanted to kiss him’. he’s reminded of how nice it feels to feel wanted by someone. “i’m… glad you did.”

sicheng smiles, then curls his arms around ten’s waist, beginning to spin them around, slow at first, but as his smile grows, the pace of the spinning picks up too, and eventually they’re clinging to each other and laughing as they make the room around them spin. they fall to the ground, dizzy and giggling, fingers locked together in a tight hand-hold. 

“can i kiss you again?” ten asks, eyes on the ceiling. 

“i’d love it if you would.”

*

they don’t put the kiss in the final dance - they keep it for their own private version. but they keep the tension in the final move, where sicheng brings ten’s head to his shoulder, making it look like they’re about to kiss. ten giggles as he imagines the fans reaction to the ending of the dance, and asks sicheng how he thinks they’d react if they really did kiss at the end. 

“they’d lose their minds. and we’d lose our jobs.” sicheng answers with a laugh. 

“yeah, but it’s fun to wonder.” he replies, laying his head against sicheng’s shoulder. 

“but it’s more fun to have secrets.” 

“true.” 

their lips meet in a soft kiss, laced with smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: winwin and ten fall in love (and kiss) while working on their rainbow v project
> 
> for weishenfest!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/qindery/)


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